


Birthday Boy

by herinfiniteeyes



Series: Birthday Boy 'Verse [1]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Barebacking, Dubious Consent, M/M, jailbait!arthur, not-really-incest, size!kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-08
Updated: 2011-08-08
Packaged: 2017-10-22 09:40:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/236673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herinfiniteeyes/pseuds/herinfiniteeyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur was orphaned at 15 and went to live with his cousin Mal and her family. Two years later, they find out he's gay and they're worried about him getting hurt, so they send him to stay with "Uncle" Eames (a family friend). He's determined to take care of Arthur and show him how to be safe, but Arthur's more interested in...well, Eames.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birthday Boy

So it's like this:

Arthur is Mal's cousin. She and Dom became his legal guardians when he was fifteen because his parents died on a business trip and no one else wanted to take in an angry, lonely teenage boy. Fast forward two years, and Arthur's still an angry, lonely teenage boy. Except now, Dom and Mal know he's gay...and they're worried about him. Enter Eames, Dom's best friend and honorary “uncle” to Dom and Mal's kids.

 

“I think this is a good idea, Mal,” Arthur heard Dom say quietly. He was unashamedly listening at their bedroom door, trying to find out how they were going to punish him for today.

“Dom, boys experiment. I think you're overreacting. He's seventeen,” Mal replied in a soothing voice.

He heard some shifting and pacing close to the door, so he shrank back into the shadows of the dark hallway until Dom spoke again. “This isn't experimenting, though!”

Arthur heard Mal snort. “And how would you know?” she asked.

Dom huffed, loud and frustrated. “Look, it doesn't bother me that Arthur's gay, you know that. It's just that he could get really hurt.”

Arthur's brow furrowed as he scoffed at Dom's concern. Whatever, he thought. Dom doesn't know shit about being gay.

“Yes, but part of being a teenager is getting hurt. Heartbreak is only natural,” Mal replied.

Dom's voice was louder now. “That's just it, it's not about getting his heart broken. It's about his physical safety. I mean, I was there when Eames came out. He was only fifteen, and the things he went through...I'd never want Arthur to go through that.”

“Like what?” Mal asked quietly.

Dom growled angrily, though Arthur could tell it wasn't aimed at Mal. “Like this one time – his first time at a gay club – some old guy picked him up. He never really told me what happened, but he came to my house after. He was drunk and crying, and I don't know what went on, but I do know that the guy hurt him. He was real quiet for a few weeks after that. After that, it was just a string of worthless assholes using him for sex and dumping him when they were through. He was an easy target, especially after he got into the club drugs.”

The room was silent for a brief period of time. Finally, Mal sighed sadly. “Poor Eames.”

“I don't want anything like that to happen to Arthur. He's already been through enough,” Dom pleaded. “Please let me handle this.”

“What did you have in mind?” Mal asked.

Arthur pressed closer to the door, afraid they would send him away.

“I'm going to call Eames. Arthur's almost out of school for the summer. I can set something up,” Dom replied. His voice was closer to the door now, and Arthur was forced to dive toward the bathroom in order to avoid getting caught eavesdropping.

Dom opened their bedroom door and stopped short when he saw Arthur furtively brushing his teeth. Arthur peered at him from the corner of his eyes and saw Dom's pinched expression. He spit a foamy mouthful of toothpaste into the sink and prayed that Dom would just leave without saying anything.

No such luck.

“Hey, so, uh... a week of school left,” he began. Arthur nodded and kept brushing his teeth so he wouldn't have to respond. “You're grounded until summer vacation starts,” Dom finished.

Arthur's eyes went wide and he almost choked on minty spit. “What? But--”

Dom held up his hand to cut him off. “Look, I remember what it's like to be your age, but I'm also responsible for you and that means that I have to look out for your best interests. Fooling around with guys in your bedroom isn't a good idea.”

Arthur rolled his eyes and spat into the sink. He threw his toothbrush into the medicine cabinet and grumbled. “You make it sound like I was fucking the whole football team!”

Dom scrubbed a hand over his face. “What if James of Phillipa had walked in on you instead of Mal? Did you ever think of that?”

Arthur immediately felt ashamed. He'd never thought of that. “It was just one guy...” He flinched, completely aware of how weak his response was.

Dom frowned and looked away. “Just...you're grounded until the end of school. It's only a week. We're not mad at you, Arthur, we just need to look out for you and your best interests.” With that, Dom walked into the living room and turned on the TV.

Arthur fumed for the rest of the week, especially when he had to tell Robby he couldn't meet him. Robby just shrugged and Arthur tried not to throw up when he saw him driving off with Nash the very next day.

Obviously Arthur needed to find less of a selfish bastard to fuck around with.

 

Despite being grounded for the last week of school, Dom and Mal didn't treat him like a prisoner. He was allowed to go to the library and the gym, and they didn't get mad whenever Ariadne came over to hang out. The only thing he wasn't allowed to do was talk to Robby.

Not that he minded. Much.

In the beginning...

The weekend after school got out, “Uncle” Eames showed up. He wasn't actually anyone's uncle, at least not as far as Arthur knew. Dom and Eames had been friends since middle school, and he was James and Phillipa's godfather. He only lived a few hours away, but he was a busy guy so he rarely came for visits. Arthur usually only saw him two or three times per year, on family holidays. Arthur looked forward to every visit, but not out of any sort of familial love.

No, Arthur looked forward to seeing Eames because Eames was the reason Arthur had realized he was gay in the first place. He'd been nursing a painful crush on the older man for the past two years, and every time he came for a visit, Arthur fervently wished that Eames would look at him and see him in the same way.

Unfortunately, it still didn't look like Eames wanted to jump Arthur. This pissed him off, because he spent hours every week at the gym trying to force his gangly body into something more attractive. He knew Eames's type. He'd brought a boyfriend over last Christmas, much to Arthur's dismay (read: intense jealousy). Espen was Norwegian, tall and graceful. He had a lean, muscular body and a pretty face. He dressed immaculately and held himself aloof from the rest of the people at the Christmas party.

Arthur kind of hated him on sight, but he really hated the way he talked to Eames when he thought nobody else could hear. Eames didn't deserve that kind of bullshit, and Arthur was overjoyed when Dom mentioned their eventual break up.

 

Right now, Eames was seated at the kitchen table while Mal bustled around preparing dinner. Arthur was slumped on the couch in the living room, worried about whatever Dom's silly little plan entailed. Dom wouldn't be home from work for another half hour, so Arthur would just have to wait an eternity to find out what his punishment would be.

When Dom finally got home, they sat down at the table to eat. Arthur fidgeted uncomfortably, watching the furtive glances passing between Mal and Dom. Mal looked like she wanted to say something, but Dom kept up a running commentary with Phillipa until everyone cleaned their plate.

After dessert, Dom excused himself and Eames to his study and shut the door. Arthur slipped away while Mal was busy cleaning up the kids. He sneaked down the hallway to listen at the door. Eames's smooth accent was muffled slightly, but his words were clear enough.

 

Inside the study...

“I don't know, Dom. I'm no role model,” Eames said doubtfully.

Dom pinched the bridge of his nose and stood up. “He's still a kid, Eames. You're older and wiser, and you could teach him a lot. I don't want to see him get hurt like...” Dom trailed off uncomfortably.

“Like I did.” Eames finished for him. Dom dropped his hand and shot Eames a pleading look. Eames shifted in his chair and broke eye contact while he considered Dom's harebrained scheme. “He's going to hate this,” he said finally.

Dom hid his relieved grin. “Maybe, but it'll be a thousand times better for him than hanging out with that spoiled little dickhead Robert Fischer.”

Out in the hallway, Arthur's eyes went wide. He'd had no idea that Dom knew who Robby was.

Eames sputtered. “He's hanging out with Maurice's kid?”

Dom scowled. “Yeah. Mal caught them fooling around. That kid is nothing but trouble. I don't want him around my boy.”

Eames laughed at Dom's words, even as he admired just how devoted Dom was to raising Arthur like one of his own kids. “Careful there, old man. You're one step away from greeting his boyfriends with a shotgun.”

Dom's shoulders relaxed a bit and he chuckled. “Yeah well, it'll be good practice. Phillipa's growing up fast.”

Eames crossed his legs and stroked his chin in consideration. “Back on topic. I don't know if he should come stay with me. I'm trying to find some help for renovations. I'm taking the next few months off work to fix up the house I just bought.”

Dom's eyes lit up. “But that's perfect! Arthur can help you. That way, you won't have to pay anyone.”

Eames snorted. “Arthur? Last I saw, he didn't weigh more than eight stone soaking wet. Does he even know how to use a hammer?”

 

Outside the study, Arthur's heart broke a little bit at the dismissive tone in Eames's voice. Sure, he wasn't covered in bulky muscle like Eames, but he wasn't some little wimp.

Arthur didn't want to hear anything more, so he disappeared down the hall into his bedroom to brood.

 

The next morning, Dom broached the subject of Arthur staying with Eames. Arthur refused to look at Eames until Eames spoke to him directly. “So, what d'you say? Want to come help me around the house? I'll pay you, of course.”

Arthur chewed on his bottom lip and shifted in his seat. Yeah, he wanted to hang out with Eames. The idea of living with the subject of 99.5% of his spank bank fantasies sounded like a dream come true to a horny seventeen year old.

Unfortunately, he was afraid Eames would think he was useless when it came to manual labor. Arthur's ears turned bright red at the thought of embarrassing himself in front of Eames.

Since Arthur was seventeen and horny, as mentioned before, it was really no contest. “Um, sure, I guess.”

 

Two weeks later...

Arthur had a plan.

 

Three weeks later...

“Arthur? What are you doing?” Eames asked, looking slightly bewildered.

Arthur jumped slightly and turned to see Eames standing in the doorway to the kitchen looking deliciously rumpled and sleepy. He realized the pan of bacon was smoking a moment after Eames did. Before he could react, Eames was already there with the lid to smother it.

Once Eames had the pan in the sink, Arthur shyly tried to hide what he'd been doing. He ended up knocking over the half-full pitcher of orange juice he'd just spent a long time squeezing. This resulted in broken glass and juice all over the floor. “Fuck!” Arthur exclaimed as he tried to avoid the glass with his bare feet.

“Ah! Don't move, I've got it,” Eames said. Arthur was forced to stand completely still while Eames knelt at his feet, cleaning up his mess.

After it was safe to move out of the way, Arthur tried to make a hasty retreat. Eames called him back. “Not so fast! What were you up to?” he asked curiously.

He didn't look mad, but Arthur still felt embarrassed anyway. He shifted from one foot to the other and tried to look anywhere but at the man he was clumsily trying to seduce. “Uhh...I, um, was making you...shit! I mean, I was making breakfast...I guess,” he mumbled awkwardly. His cheeks were flaming. Since he was also shirtless (all part of the seduction plan, dammit!), he could see the red and white blotches that showed up whenever he was really mortified...like right now.

Eames quirked an eyebrow and smiled at him. “Ah, I see.”

Arthur kind of wanted to die.

 

Two days later...

Arthur tried not to drool when Eames stripped off his t-shirt and threw it across the room. A hot breeze blew through the open window, barely lifting the curtains. Arthur swallowed, only to find that his throat was dry. Eames caught him staring and winked at him. “Bit hot today, innit?” he said.

Arthur nodded weakly. Though Eames was shirtless, Arthur decided to keep his on to avoid any pitying looks from the totally built guy beside him. Sweat caused the shirt to cling to his slender frame anyway.

He turned back to rolling the light green paint onto the wall. Right now, most of the room was still an ugly shade of brown. They'd already finished painting the bathroom connected to the master suite, and Arthur's arms were killing him. He hadn't been to the gym in almost a month, so his muscles were easily fatigued. He kept pushing himself anyway.

It was difficult to keep his eyes from wandering toward Eames. He watched the movement of muscle in his arms and upper back. He had a swimmer's back. He also had tattoos everywhere and his chest had a light dusting of hair. Arthur's hungry gaze followed the thin trail of hair down to his pants. He'd give anything to see the rest of Eames's body, but he was beginning to lose hope that he'd ever get the chance.

“Water?” Eames asked, ripping Arthur from his reverie.

“Oh, yeah, please,” Arthur stuttered. He realized he was half-hard from his forbidden thoughts, but thankfully his shirt was long enough to hide the evidence. He cleared his throat and wiped his forearm across his forehead to remove the sweat gathered at his hairline.

When Eames returned with two bottles of cold water, he laughed. Arthur flinched his hand away from accepting the water. “What?” he snapped self-consciously.

Eames reached up and brushed his thumb across Arthur's forehead. “You've got a bit of paint here,” he replied, still amused.

Arthur swallowed hard at the sensation of Eames's callused thumb. It sent a zing of nerves and pleasure running up his spine, but he fought to keep his face neutral. “Oh, thanks,” he said. His voice was shaky, but Eames didn't appear to notice.

“No problem, love,” Eames said absently as he swiftly looked away.

Arthur frowned.

 

Six days later...

“Where are you going?” Arthur asked.

Eames stopped and looked at Arthur in surprise. “What are you doing up?” he asked.

Arthur shrugged. “Couldn't sleep. Are you going to the gym?” he asked hopefully.

Eames nodded. “Why, did you want to come with me?” he asked.

Arthur jumped off the couch and headed for the stairs. “Hell yeah! Lemme just grab my stuff.” He shot up the stairs and quickly changed into his work out clothes. He stuffed a clean towel and a change of clothes into his neglected gym bag and hurried back down the stairs.

Eames was waiting patiently for him at the door. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” Arthur replied.

 

The gym was nicer than the one Arthur usually went to. He was honestly a bit intimidated when he walked in behind Eames. Unlike the dank little family-friendly YMCA, this gym apparently catered to hot guys, because he couldn't see one woman on the floor. Sweaty muscles gleamed under the bright lights as guys in tight tank tops and shorts ran on the treadmills, lifted weights, or did floor exercises. Arthur had to stop himself from staring at the guys using the weights before Eames caught him.

Arthur may or may not have a thing for guys with lots of muscle.

After Eames got him a visitor's pass, they dropped their stuff off in the locker room and went back out onto the main floor. “What do you usually do at the gym?” Eames asked.

Arthur looked around, trying to decide. “Um, I usually run on the treadmill.”

Eames nodded and patted his shoulder. “Right then. I'll be in the back on the weights if you need me,” he said.

Arthur made his way to an empty treadmill and quickly resolved not to think about Eames lifting weights. He didn't have much room to hide his unruly boner this time.

Once he figured out the stupidly expensive treadmill, he popped in his earbuds and settled into a comfortable run. There were mirrors on every wall, but Arthur chose to stare blankly at the bank of television screens playing various news channels instead.

After awhile, he got bored and started looking around. He was trying to decide between the rowing machine and some other machine he'd never seen before when a guy approached him with a friendly smile.

Whoever he was, he was definitely hot. When he got to the treadmill, he said something that Arthur couldn't hear over his music. Confused, he removed his earbuds and looked at the man politely. “Yes?” he said.

The guy laughed. “You're new here.” It was a statement, not a question.

Arthur answered anyway. “Yeah.”

Seeing that the guy wasn't going to leave anytime soon, Arthur slowed the speed of the treadmill to a walk. The man held out his hand for a shake. “I'm Tom, a trainer here,” he explained.

Arthur relaxed a bit and shook his hand. “I'm Arthur.”

“Nice to meet you, Arthur,” Tom said with a smile. He had perfectly straight white teeth that looked entirely fake, but Arthur smiled back at him anyway.

“Anyway, new clients get a free training session. We'll go over your fitness goals and create a plan that works for you. Does that interest you?” Tom asked.

Arthur scratched the back of his neck and tried to look for Eames without being too obvious. There was something slightly predatory about this guy, and Arthur's instincts were telling him to retreat. “Umm...” he stalled.

“Hey there, mate,” he heard a familiar voice say. Arthur's shoulders instantly relaxed as Eames appeared beside him. He watched Tom's smile dim a bit, but he didn't back down right away. “Tom, right?” Eames asked.

Tom nodded, looking slightly uncomfortable now. “And you are?”

Eames grinned, but it wasn't his normal smile. It looked more like a warning. “I'm Eames. You finished here, Arthur?”

Arthur's eyes were as wide as saucers now. “Um, yeah...” he replied.

Eames kept his eyes glued to Tom as he reached out and put a heavy, sweat-sticky arm around his shoulders. “Great. Let's go have some breakfast, yeah?”

“Okay,” Arthur said.

Tom looked a bit constipated now. His expression was pinched and his eyes were getting shifty. Eames's hand tightened on Arthur's shoulder before it stroked down his bicep. Arthur had to bite his lip to stop the shiver of awareness that shot across all his nerve endings.

“Nice to meet you, Tom,” Eames said with a dismissive nod.

Tom disappeared like he'd never been there in the first place.

Eames finally turned to look at Arthur. “So, breakfast?” he said as if nothing had just happened. Arthur nodded mutely and followed him to the locker room.

The car ride to the diner was filled with awkward silence.

 

After they placed their orders, Eames grumbled and scrubbed a hand over his stubble. Arthur wondered what his problem was.

“Listen...” he started.

Arthur cut him off. “If you're planning on giving me a lecture, you can save it,” he said spitefully.

Eames looked taken aback. “Hey, Dom's depending on me to look out for you here. I take that pretty seriously,” he said.

Arthur deflated a bit. “Whatever,” he said. He ignored the fact that he sounded like a sullen child.

Eames tried again. “That Tom guy is bad news.”

Arthur was curious now. “How so?”

Eames looked uncomfortable. “Well, he has a reputation,” he answered vaguely.

“...And?” Arthur prompted.

He sighed and leaned back against the booth. “So you're just a kid. This guy doesn't care. He's too old for you anyway,” Eames said wearily.

Arthur's spine stiffened. “He's what, maybe thirty? He can't be any older than you. Besides, I happen to like older men,” he replied angrily.

Eames wouldn't look at him now. “Yeah, well, older guys are bad news. They'll fuck with you and that's exactly why Dom sent you to me. He wants to keep you from making the same mistakes I did when I was your age.”

Arthur was still smarting from being called “just a kid.” “So what? I can handle myself. It's not like I'm a virgin or anything,” he lied.

Eames looked pained now. “Regardless, I don't think you really know what it's like out there,” he pushed.

Just then, the waitress returned with their food and stuck around to chat. She obviously wasn't good at reading body language, because neither of them was really in the mood for small talk right now.

After she left, they ate in uncomfortable silence.

 

That night...

Did Eames really think Arthur couldn't hear him sneak out of the house? He wasn't stupid.

Still, he listened silently as Eames showered, dressed, and quietly left the house after he thought Arthur was snug in his bed like a good little boy.

Arthur glared at the wall opposite his bed as he waited for the car's headlights to disappear. Defiantly, he got up and went into the master suite. It was completely finished now and Eames had moved his stuff in a few days ago. A huge bed with rumpled sheets dominated the bedroom. Clothes hid the brown leather wing-back chair in the corner. The lamp on the bedside table glowed softly in the otherwise dim bedroom, but the lights were bright in the en suite bathroom. Arthur smiled unwillingly at Eames's inability to shut off lights when he left a room.

The bathroom mirror was still cloudy from his shower. The scent of Eames's cologne clung to the steam that lingered. Arthur inhaled deeply and wished he could have been in the shower with him, but it was painfully clear after their “talk” this morning that Eames still saw him as a kid.

Arthur frowned and tripped over the wet towel on the floor. Stupid jerk couldn't even pick up after himself. Out of habit, he bent and picked it up and slung it over the towel rack. Eames probably wouldn't even notice, not that Arthur cared. He was just a kid, after all.

One of the things Arthur liked so much about Eames was his smell. Unlike American colognes that always tried for fresh, clean scents, Eames's scent was far warmer...earthier, musky. Arthur could breathe him in all day and never get tired of it.

After straightening up the bathroom, Arthur returned to the bedroom and sat on the unmade bed. The drawer on the bedside table was open slightly. His curiosity got the best of him, so he decided to snoop. He opened the drawer all the way and felt his chest tighten with jealousy when he saw the bottle of lube and the assortment of condoms. He imagined Eames bringing guys back here, using this lube and these condoms.

Fucking them into the mattress while they screamed his name.

Arthur's sudden erection tented his flannel pajama bottoms. Feeling like an idiot, knowing this was a horrible idea, he grabbed the bottle of lube and collapsed back against the pillows. Casting a quick look at the empty doorway, he pushed down his pants just enough to release his cock. After dribbling some lube into the palm of his hand, he turned and buried his face in the pillow under his head.

He took deep breaths as he slowly jacked himself off, imagining it was Eames's hand on his cock. This was his lube, his bed, his smell surrounding Arthur. He didn't know how long Eames would be gone, but it didn't matter. Arthur was too lost in his fantasy of being allowed, being welcome in this bed.

In his head, Eames returned home to find Arthur spread out and ready for him. He wouldn't patronize Arthur or dismiss him. He would be too turned on by the sight before him to reject Arthur.

He'd strip, peeling away each article of clothing until he was naked and hard, just for Arthur. Then he'd climb on the bed and take the lube and work Arthur's hole open finger by finger until Arthur was ready for his huge cock. That first push...

Arthur cursed out loud as he came, making a complete mess on himself. He swore again when he saw some of his come on the sheets as well.

He quickly cleaned himself up with tissues from the box next to the bed and stripped the sheets off the bed. There was no way he could leave come stains on the sheets without Eames noticing.

He hurried downstairs to the laundry room and shoved the sheets inside the washer. He really hoped Eames would be gone for awhile, because he had no idea where the clean sheets were. Maybe Eames didn't even have a spare set.

Arthur paced anxiously as he waited for the washing cycle to finish. He'd have to come up with a pretty creative excuse if Eames came home now.

Luck apparently didn't favor Arthur tonight, because the sheets were literally minutes away from being dry when he heard Eames's car pulling into the driveway. He growled under his breath and tugged at his hair in frustration. “Fucking great,” he cursed.

Eames came through the back door that led directly into the kitchen. Both he and Arthur froze when they saw each other. “Um, err...” Arthur mumbled.

“What are you doing up?” Eames asked. He looked freshly fucked. His collar was open, revealing a dark bite mark on his collarbone.

Arthur felt like throwing up.

“Uh, I couldn't sleep,” he lied. Or maybe it was the truth, since he wouldn't have been able to sleep until the sheets were back on Eames's bed.

Just then, the dryer buzzed and Eames's eyebrows lifted. “Doing laundry?” he asked.

Arthur sighed and gave him the best excuse he could think of. “Well, uhh, I couldn't sleep...so I thought I'd clean. I guess.” It sounded lame, even to Arthur. Eames didn't say anything, though, so Arthur retreated to the laundry room and pulled the sheets from the dryer. He hoped Eames would be distracted, maybe stay downstairs to watch some television so Arthur could remake the bed without him noticing.

No such luck.

“Are those...my sheets?” Eames asked in confusion.

Arthur could feel the blotches forming on his neck and chest. Today just wasn't going his way. “Errm, yeah. I was cleaning. I washed mine, too,” he lied.

Eames looked suspicious, and there was a tense moment of silence before he shrugged and held his arms out for the sheets. “Right. Well, thanks then. I'll see you in the morning,” he said as he took the sheets from Arthur and went upstairs.

Arthur wished that a hole would open up and swallow him.

 

Three days later...

He set his alarm to go off a good half hour before Eames usually woke up. Ever since the first (and only) time he'd taken Arthur to the gym, he'd been reluctant and evasive about taking him back.

Arthur was determined to press the issue today. He got up and silently dressed for the gym. After that, he went downstairs and sat at the kitchen table with a bowl of cereal while he waited for Eames to get up.

He finally heard Eames coming down the stairs. He braced himself for an argument, but he wasn't prepared for the look of mingled guilt and surprise on Eames's face when he saw Arthur waiting for him. “Er, good morning,” he said.

“Morning,” Arthur replied coolly. Two could play this game.

Eames dropped his gym bag as if he could hide it and walked into the kitchen. “Cereal?” Arthur offered.

“Sure...thanks,” Eames said as he awkwardly took the box and sat at the table with a bowl. Arthur got up and got the milk for him.

He waited until Eames had a bite in his mouth. “So, I'd like to go to the gym with you today,” he said.

Eames choked a little. “Um, I don't think that's such a good idea...” he said tightly and started to cough.

Arthur thumped him heartily on the back a few times. “Why not?” he pressed.

Eames made a pained face. “Because,” he hedged.

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that's a legit answer,” he said sarcastically.

Eames stood up and dumped the rest of his cereal in the sink. “Arthur, that gym isn't just a place for working out,” he said awkwardly.

“Uh huh,” he said.

“Guys go there to...well, to hook up sometimes,” he finished. He looked as uncomfortable as Arthur felt.

Arthur tried to play it cool. “Yeah, I gathered that after Tom the Trainer tried to pick me up,” he replied. “Obviously, he wasn't successful. So...will you let me go with you? Please?”

Eames looked like he'd rather be in a pit of scorpions at this point. Arthur watched him grapple with a way to refuse without looking like a dick, but apparently nothing came to mind. He felt a surge of triumph when Eames sighed reluctantly and said, “Fine. Let's go.”

Arthur hid his smile as he went to pick up his bag. He followed a very silent and obviously irritated Eames to the car.

 

The gym was busier today than the last time, and Eames looked reluctant to leave Arthur alone. He watched guys check Eames out as they left the locker room, but Eames was apparently busy glaring at the entire world, so Arthur ignored him.

“So, the treadmills?” Eames asked without looking at him.

Arthur frowned. “Eames, seriously. Just go work out. I'll be fine. I'm a big boy, I don't need a fucking babysitter.”

Eames's lush mouth pinched shut. “I promised Dom --”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “You act like I'm some defenseless little twink,” he complained.

“That's exactly what you look like,” Eames replied angrily.

“Psh, I know kung fu.” Arthur smirked.

Eames's anger deflated and he grinned at Arthur as he gave him a playful slap on the back of his head. “You're trouble, you know that?” Arthur just grinned, relieved that Eames wasn't mad anymore. Eames sighed. “Fine. I'll be in the back if you need me. If that creeper comes back, just come get me. I'm not kidding, Arthur. I don't want you messing around with that guy.”

Arthur nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

For the next hour, Arthur ran on the treadmill without interruption. When he finished up and started toward the rowing machine he'd never got a chance to try last time, another guy approached him. This guy looked like he could bench press Arthur, and that mental image sent a shiver up his spine. He looked around for Eames, just in case, and stiffened when he saw Eames talking to some Malibu Ken doll wannabe by the free weights. The guy was all over Eames, squeezing his biceps and smiling like a simpering idiot at him.

Arthur was so wrapped up in his angry jealousy that he almost didn't hear the bodybuilder talking to him. He snapped back to reality and turned to look at him. “Oh, uh, hi,” he said gracelessly.

“Hey there,” the guy said with a smile. Up close, he was good-looking in an unremarkable sort of way. He had light brown hair and green eyes, he was tan...and he was built. He was probably even bigger than Eames, which was saying something. He had at least four inches in height on Arthur, and his arms alone looked wider than Arthur's thighs. “I'm Eric.”

“Arthur,” he replied. “Nice to meet you.”

Eric leaned in close, getting right up in Arthur's personal space. “I haven't seen you here before,” he said in a hushed voice, as if he was sharing a secret.

Arthur resisted the urge to roll his eyes because really, this guy was hot...and if Eames didn't want to fuck Arthur, well maybe this guy would. Arthur smiled wide enough to show his dimples, and Eric appeared charmed. “That's because I'm new here,” he replied in an equally quiet tone.

Eric looked pleased to hear this. “Did you just move here?” Arthur nodded. Eric's smile grew wider. “So...” he trailed off.

“So..?” Arthur prodded.

Eric tilted his head toward a hallway Arthur hadn't noticed before. “Have you been to the steam rooms?”

Ah, so that must be where guys hooked up here. Arthur felt a flutter of nerves in his stomach, but he could still see Eames hitting on that guy in his peripheral vision, so he sacked up and turned his full attention back to Eric. “No, I haven't. Will you show me?” He tried to smile innocently while he reached out to run a hand down the guy's smooth chest.

“Sure!” Eric said.

Apparently, they had to get naked to use the steam rooms. They were more like stalls, just big enough for two. It figured. Towels were provided. Arthur followed Eric's example and stripped down before grabbing a towel. His stomach was in knots, but he was determined to go through with this. Eric didn't seem to think Arthur was just a kid.

He sat back against the damp wall as Eric did...whatever...to produce the steam. Arthur felt like he couldn't breathe. The steam made the room pretty uncomfortable, but he wasn't going to complain. When Eric turned around, he dropped his towel and walked over to Arthur. “Can I suck your dick?” he asked.

Arthur tried to hide his surprise, but Eric laughed. “You don't do this often, huh?”

Mutely, Arthur shook his head. He didn't want to give away his inexperience. Eric didn't seem to mind, however. “Here, let me,” he said as he reached for Arthur's towel. Arthur leaned back to give him better access.

He'd given Robby a couple of blow jobs, but Robby had never returned the favor. Maybe that should have been his first clue that Robert Fischer was a selfish bastard.

He pushed that thought away, however, when Eric knelt between his legs and stroked his semi-erect dick with his hand. “Let's have some fun,” he said. Arthur tried not to roll his eyes at that.

The first touch of Eric's mouth on him sent an electric pulse of pleasure up Arthur's spine. His eyes immediately closed and his head thumped weakly against the wall. He didn't know what to do with his hands. It seemed rude to put them on Eric's head, so he just gripped his knees. His orgasm was close, so he bit his lip and tried to think unsexy thoughts.

Much to his dismay, he started hearing Eames saying his name in his head. He tried to warn Eric, but two things happened just as Arthur's orgasm hit him: first, Eames busted through the door shouting Arthur's name. Second, Eames grabbed Eric around his neck and pushed him away from Arthur. Because of these events, Arthur was coming like a freight train he couldn't stop in the midst of all the pandemonium.

His eyes shot open to see a furious Eames towering over Eric on the floor. “What. The. Fuck.” Eames growled.

“This is a private room, asshole!” Eric replied angrily. “What the hell is your problem, man?”

Arthur watched Eames take another threatening step toward the guy. “He's with me,” Eames said in a deadly calm voice. Arthur shivered. Eames looked like he could kill someone right now, and fuck if that didn't turn him on just a little.

Eric held his hands up in surrender. “Hey man, I didn't know. He came back here with me, it's not like I forced him.”

Eames was silent for a moment before he backed off with a hot glare. “Well, now you know. Don't fucking touch him again,” he warned.

Arthur had to fight the urge to shrink back from Eames when he turned to look at him. Arthur was mortified to realize he had come on his stomach and thighs...and oh yeah, he was completely fucking naked. Eames's jaw clenched as he threw Arthur a towel. “Clean up, we're leaving,” he said tersely.

Arthur rushed to obey. Eric slipped out of the room and beat feet down the hall while Eames stalked the room like a caged animal. As soon as he was clean, Eames ushered him down the hall in the opposite direction. It led directly into the locker room. Eames fumed silently because there were other people milling around. Arthur threw on his sweat-damp work out clothes while Eames glared at anyone who happened to get too close.

Once again, the car ride home was awkward and silent.

 

As soon as they got home, Arthur was out of the car and stalking angrily inside before Eames even turned the car off. He was halfway up the stairs when he heard Eames say, “Oh no, you don't. We're talking about this!”

Arthur groaned and turned back around to face Eames. “I really don't want to,” he said sullenly.

Eames was at the foot of the stairs with his hands on his hips and an angry look on his face. “Too bad,” he said.

Defeated, Arthur slumped down on the stairs and buried a hand in his hair. “This is some hypocritical bullshit, you know,” he grumbled.

Eames cocked his head. “Why, because I don't like finding you with your dick in some guy's mouth?” he shot back.

There was something off about that question, but Arthur couldn't figure out what it was. Instead, he let loose on Eames. “Gimme a break! I know you were fucking guys at my age, so what? I'm supposed to be under lock and key here? It's hypocritical,” he repeated.

Eames brushed a weary hand down his face. “I made a lot of mistakes when I was your age, Arthur. I don't want to see you get used by these predatory pieces of shit who prey on pretty boys like you!”

Arthur snorted. “Nice alliteration,” he said.

Eames scowled. “Y'know what? Fine. Go,” he said as he made a sweeping gesture toward the front door. “See what it's like to have some guy twice your age pick you up at a club and take you out to some deserted place where he can fuck you dry while his wife sits at home with the kids! Let him tear you up and drop you off like a piece of rubbish.”

Arthur blinked, completely stunned. Eames instantly looked like he regretted saying anything. Finally, Arthur spoke. “Is that...what happened to you?” he asked hesitantly.

Eames clenched his mouth shut. Just when Arthur thought he wouldn't get an answer, Eames exhaled loudly and looked directly at him. “Yeah. I was fifteen. I thought I knew everything, but I had no fucking clue. Not everyone you meet is out to use you, but you still have to watch out. I watched a lot of bright-eyed kids get fucked up in the club scene. Drugs, older men, diseases... you just have to be careful, Arthur.”

Arthur felt bad for the younger Eames, but that wasn't enough to make him back down completely. “I'm sorry,” he said. Eames looked away uncomfortably. “But that doesn't mean I'll be one of those kids. I'm almost eighteen, and besides...I don't really care about the clubs,” he said. It wasn't true, but Eames didn't need to know that. Arthur intended to check out the clubs as soon as he went off to college.

Eames just looked tired now. “Today...with that guy,” he began. Arthur tensed. “You were out of your mind to go off alone with him.”

Arthur's stubbornness asserted itself. “I was totally fine,” he insisted.

Eames's eyes were dark and dangerous. “You can't handle men like him, Arthur.”

His shoulders stiffened. “Like what? Older? I already told you I like older men.”

A growl rumbled in Eames's throat. “He was easily twice your size. He could have hurt you,” he pressed.

Arthur rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Yeah, that was kind of the point,” he said.

Eames looked slightly confused. “What?”

“I like big guys, okay? That's my type. The bigger, the better,” Arthur said.

Silence.

Eames raised his eyebrow and considered Arthur's statement. “I see. So you suckered me into taking you to the gym today so you could hook up with some meathead.”

“Not exactly,” Arthur hedged.

He looked slightly irritated. “I think that's exactly what your intentions were.”

Arthur swiftly stood up and stomped down the stairs. Without thinking, he shoved Eames against the wall behind him and laid an open-mouthed kiss on those ridiculously sinful lips. He felt Eames freeze, but he pressed forward anyway, just long enough to prove his point. When he pulled away, he bit back his regret and said, “I wasn't after some stupid meathead, you idiot! I was after you!”

Immediately, Arthur wished he could take it back. Eames looked utterly gobsmacked. He turned and ran up the stairs as fast as his feet could take him. “Arthur...” he heard Eames call after him.

“Just forget it!” he yelled back before shutting his door.

 

The next day...

Arthur hadn't left his room for the rest of the night. Eames didn't bother him, but there was a tray of food left outside his door sometime in the evening hours. Arthur refused to touch it even though he felt a painful twist of tenderness in his chest at Eames's consideration.

When he woke up, he looked at the clock and saw that Eames would be at the gym by now, so he got up and went downstairs. He was surprised to find Eames sitting quietly at the kitchen table with the newspaper and a cup of coffee. When he heard Arthur, he folded down the paper and greeted him awkwardly. “Good morning.”

Arthur scowled and slouched down into a chair. There would be no escaping what was sure to be the Most Uncomfortable Talk Ever. He was completely resigned to his fate when Eames put the paper down and fiddled with his coffee cup. “About yesterday --”

Arthur waited, but it seemed Eames was having some trouble sorting out what he actually wanted to say. He decided to cut to the chase. “I'm sorry I kissed you.”

“What?” Eames said. “That's not – well, what I mean to say is --” he was fumbling for something to say, but Arthur wasn't all that interested in what he would eventually come up with, because it was sure to crush the last bit of hope that Eames would ever see him as something other than a kid.

“I get it, okay? You think I'm just a stupid kid. You can spare me the lecture,” Arthur said snippily.

Eames looked like a fish out of water for a second. “I never said you were stupid.”

Arthur shrugged dismissively. “Doesn't matter, I know how you see me.”

He watched several emotions flit across Eames's face. Finally, he looked defeated. “You really don't.”

Arthur wasn't sure he'd heard correctly. “Say what?”

Eames looked like he didn't want to say anything. “You're a beautiful boy, Arthur. You're bloody gorgeous. But...you belong to Mal and Dom.”

Arthur's mind exploded a little. “What do they have to do with this?” he asked dumbly.

Eames looked regretful now. “Arthur. You're beautiful and intelligent and all sorts of other delightful things, but I'm not meant to have you.”

Frustrated, Arthur chewed the inside of his cheek and gripped the edge of the table until his knuckles were white. “I don't see why --”

Eames cut him off. “We both know why this can't happen.”

Arthur wanted to protest, to shout and throw things until Eames gave in and let Arthur have a chance to show him that he wasn't a kid anymore...but he could hear the finality in Eames's words, and that told him more than anything that he couldn't persuade him otherwise.

Instead, Arthur stood up and left the room without another word. Eames didn't bother him for the rest of the day.

 

Five days later...

There was a tentative knock on his door. “Yeah?”

Eames poked his head in and located Arthur slumped down on the bed with a book. “You busy?” Eames asked politely.

Polite. Ever since The Talk, Eames had been unfailingly polite, as if he were afraid Arthur would snap at any moment and go off the deep end. Arthur wanted to punch something every time Eames looked at him like this, because it just wasn't fair. “No,” he mumbled.

“Great. I thought maybe we could go for a hike tomorrow, get out of the house for a bit. What d'you say?” Eames asked.

Arthur considered this. Frankly, he was surprised that he hadn't already been sent packing back to Dom and Mal's house. He wondered if Eames let him stay because he wanted him to, or if he just couldn't come up with a good enough excuse to send him back. Maybe he should ask, but he was already feeling shitty enough as it was. “Yeah, I guess,” he finally replied. If Eames was willing to be alone with him for the duration of the hike, he might as well take advantage of it since he was apparently a masochistic little idiot.

Eames looked momentarily satisfied and turned to go. “Oh, one last thing...” Eames said. “I invited Yusuf. He's home from uni for the summer. Nice kid. See you bright and early tomorrow, yeah?”

That sneaky son of a bitch.

 

The next day...

“Hey, I'm Yusuf.” Arthur shook the offered hand and introduced himself, barely trying to cover his anger at the whole set up.

If Eames thought he could foist Arthur off on some guy just because he didn't want to deal with him, well... he could just think again. Even if Yusuf was attractive in a comfortable sort of way, with his curly black hair and his smooth, dark skin. He still wasn't Arthur's type.

Arthur listened to Yusuf's casual chatter with one ear while he watched Eames load the car. He tried not to notice the way Eames's muscles bunched and flexed as he lifted the heavy bags into the trunk. It was difficult not to, though, because Eames was wearing a pair of low-slung cargo shorts and a fitted tank top that really accentuated his ridiculously sexy body.

If Arthur had to put his hands in his pockets for a minute in an attempt to disguise just how interested he was in Eames's body, well, at least Yusuf didn't seem to notice.

 

An hour into the hike, Eames was leading the way while Arthur and Yusuf engaged in a lively debate about their favorite childhood shows. Despite his initial anger at Eames for inviting Yusuf along, Arthur now found that he had quite a bit in common with him after all.

He didn't want to fuck him, but he definitely wouldn't mind hanging out with him again. Yusuf was smart and funny, and he had good taste in music. Arthur thought they could be friends if they had enough time to get to know each other.

They came to a clearing and Eames stopped to take a drink from his water bottle. The sun was bright above their heads, but the air was crisp and cool at this elevation. Arthur shivered a bit as the sweat on his back started to cool. “You guys need a break?” Eames asked. His breathing was smooth and normal, unlike theirs.

Yusuf was worse than Arthur, collapsing back onto a log with a relieved groan. “Just leave me here. I think I can die peacefully,” he said dramatically.

Arthur snickered and caught the small frown that crossed Eames's face. He couldn't figure out why Eames would be in a bad mood, since the afternoon had been perfectly entertaining thus far. “What about you?” Eames asked him.

Arthur shrugged. “I'm fine if you want to keep going,” he said.

Eames took another healthy gulp of his water before he nodded. “Fine. You okay here, Yusuf?”

Yusuf nodded and waved them off. Arthur smiled at him before they left the clearing.

 

Ten minutes later...

“I can't believe you,” Arthur muttered.

“What's that?” Eames asked over his shoulder. They were hiking through some thick vegetation, and the air was even colder under the canopy of the enormous trees. Arthur could hear running water nearby.

“You tried to set me up,” he accused.

Eames snorted. “Looks like it worked, too. So you're welcome.”

Arthur scowled and stomped after him. “Fuck that. You're trying to get rid of me, aren't you? Why don't you just send me back?”

Eames was silent for a moment as they reached the water. It was a small river, maybe more of a brook, but deep enough for fish. Eames stood at the edge and dropped his backpack. “I'm not trying to get rid of you, Arthur,” he said quietly.

Arthur didn't believe him. “You're just too chickenshit to admit it,” he accused.

Eames looked really angry now. He reached out and caught Arthur's arm in a vise grip. He hauled Arthur up against him and pushed the heavy pack from his back. It hit the ground with a muffed thump. He watched Eames warily as large hands framed his face. Eames's dark eyes stared down at him with an intensity that left him breathless. “You're not ready for this,” Eames murmured.

“Ready for what?” Arthur asked quietly.

Eames pulled him in even tighter and Arthur shuddered as his hands roamed down Arthur's back. “You're not ready to be with a grown man,” he clarified.

“Bullshit,” Arthur said and dove in for a kiss. It was different than the first one, and not only because Eames was responding this time. Their hot breath mingled as their lips and tongues stroked each other. Arthur heard Eames groan and felt hands gripping his ass. Arthur canted his hips toward Eames's and whimpered shakily when Eames pushed back. Judging by the swelling bulge in Eames's shorts, he was just as affected by this as Arthur was.

They kissed wetly and ground against each other until Arthur felt Eames slip a hand down the back of his shorts. Thick fingers pushed down through the cleft of his ass before a blunt fingertip circled his hole. Arthur moaned and rubbed against Eames frantically. Then he felt the fingertip push inside him, just a bit, and he jumped as if electrocuted. “Fuck!” he gasped.

Eames rushed to let go of him, and Arthur stumbled back. His lust-heavy limbs felt clumsy, and he tripped over one of the large boulders at the water's edge. With a feeling of dread replacing the arousal in his stomach, Arthur fell back into the water. He was soaked...and mortified.

He looked up to see Eames with his arms crossed over his chest. “You still expect me to believe you're not a virgin?” Eames asked, with only a minute tremor in his voice.

Arthur glared up at him from the water. “I hate you so much right now,” he panted.

Eames raised an eyebrow and smirked. “I sincerely doubt that, but at least one of us got the cold shower we needed. C'mon,” he said as he reached a hand out to help Arthur up.

As soon as he was out of the water, Arthur started shivering. Eames looked concerned. “You brought a change of clothes, right?”

Arthur clenched his teeth against their chattering. “Why would I? We're not spending the night or anything,” he said defensively.

Eames shook his in disbelief. “You should always bring spare clothes when going on a hike, Arthur.” He picked up his pack and dug through it while Arthur tried to huddle in on himself to conserve any body heat he possibly could. Once he produced a pair of pants and a soft-looking thermal henley, he tossed them to Arthur. “Here, put these on.”

With no alternative to save his dignity, Arthur started stripping off his wet clothes. Even his boxers were soaked, so he had to take those off too. Feeling entirely too self-conscious, he slipped on the pants and shirt before looking back at Eames. Eames's clothes were huge on Arthur. The neck of the thermal hung down, exposing most of his collarbone while the pants just barely clung to his narrow hips. He hoped he didn't look as stupid as he felt.

For his part, Eames looked like he wanted to take a dip in the brook as well. His normally soft lips were tight and hard, much like the front of his cargo shorts. Arthur stared at the erection tenting his shorts and licked his lips. Eames groaned. “Stop being a cocktease and put these on,” he said raggedly as he tossed a pair of wool socks his way.

Arthur rushed to put the dry socks on, but there was no alternative for his wet boots. Unfortunately, he'd have to finish out the hike with water squelching between his toes, which is why he was relieved when Eames took them back the short way after picking up Yusuf.

Unsurprisingly, the car ride home would have been awkward and silent if Yusuf hadn't been there to hold up the conversation.

 

Later that night...

Arthur looked at the calendar. His birthday was coming up in a couple of weeks.

He knew just what to ask for.

 

One week later...

It was a Saturday and Eames wanted to work on the bathroom Arthur had been using during his stay. “I think it needs a new toilet, and the shower definitely needs some work too. I need caulk for the bathtub,” he said.

Arthur, who had been lost in his thoughts, snapped back to attention when he heard Eames say I need cock. He may or may not have choked on his orange juice. “Uh, what?” he asked, throat tight.

Eames smirked. “I need to re-caulk the bathtub. I'm going to the store in a bit for supplies.”

“Oh, cool,” he mumbled. Arthur cleared his throat and tried to calm down. He had a request, but he didn't know how to go about...well, requesting it. Eames hadn't touched him since the hike, and Arthur hated it. It wasn't just the kissing that he missed; casual touching had also stopped. No more slaps on the back, no more pinching, poking, or friendly headlocks. Eames was a tactile person who showed his affection through touch, and now he was holding himself completely aloof from Arthur.

It kind of drove him a little bit crazy, and he thought maybe it was difficult for Eames, too. He looked tired and a little bit sad as of late.

 

After Eames returned from the hardware store, he asked Arthur to help him in the bathroom. It was more or less understood that Arthur would need to share Eames's bathroom until this one was finished, but neither of them said anything to that effect.

Arthur was stuck with painting again. He was forced to work around Eames, who was busy grumbling and cursing at the caulking gun. “This bloody thing is broken,” he muttered.

Arthur smirked. “You're probably just doing it wrong,” he said.

Eames looked as offended as if Arthur had just questioned his manhood. “I'd like to see you do a better job!”

Shrugging, Arthur carefully set down the paint roller and reached a hand out for the gun. “Fine by me,” he said.

Eames slapped the caulking gun into his open palm with a grunt. “I bet you anything I'm gonna have to pay someone to come fix this up,” he said grumpily.

Arthur just smiled and watched Eames stomp from the bathroom. “I'll just handle dinner, shall I?” he said as he disappeared down the stairs.

 

An hour later, the scent of stir fry drifted up the stairs and Eames stood in the bathroom doorway to see Arthur finishing up with the paint. “I thought you were doing the tub,” he said.

“I did. And now I'm done with the painting, too,” Arthur said as he set the brush down and rubbed at some paint smudged on his hand. He couldn't help the smugness in his voice.

Eames frowned. “How the hell did you manage that?” he asked.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “I read the directions.”

With that, he pushed past Eames and patted him condescendingly on the shoulder before heading downstairs.

 

Two days later...

Kitchen table. Steak and potatoes for dinner. Eames was quiet, and Arthur was on edge.

“My birthday's coming up,” he said casually.

Eames put his knife and fork down to reach for his water glass. “I know,” he said. “What would you like to do? I'll bet Dom and Mal will want to spend the day with you,” he said.

“I want you to fuck me,” Arthur said.

Eames coughed a little. “I walked into that one,” he muttered.

Arthur leaned forward and tried to get Eames to look at him. “I'll be eighteen. It'd be totally legal,” he said stubbornly.

He watched Eames's hands tighten on his silverware. “Doesn't matter. Dom would garrote me.”

This wasn't going well. Arthur decided to go the manipulative route. “Well, being eighteen will get me into the clubs, I guess,” he said nonchalantly. He held his breath.

Eames looked angry now. “Why are you pushing this?” he asked.

Arthur pursed his lips and shoved his plate away. His stomach felt too hyped up to eat. “Because I want you to – to be my first,” he said honestly.

Eames's knuckles went white on the knife and fork as he savagely sawed through his steak. “I'm too old for you, Arthur. You should find someone your own age,” he said tightly.

Arthur had him right where he wanted him. He tipped back in his chair and smirked. “But I don't want to fuck someone my own age. All I'd probably get is an awkward, likely even painful, fumble in the dark.”

“What about Yusuf?” Eames asked, sounding pained. He wouldn't look at Arthur. His eyes were trained entirely on his plate, even though he wasn't eating.

“I don't even think Yusuf is gay,” Arthur said.

Eames's eyes shot up at this. “But you two hit it off!” he insisted, looking upset.

Arthur snorted. “Just because we both like Invader Zim and listen to old grunge rock doesn't mean I want his dick in me,” he said sarcastically.

Eames's soft mouth pinched shut and he flexed his jaw, but he didn't say anything.

Arthur decided to press his advantage. He knew he was being a dick, but he knew Eames wasn't as opposed to this as he was pretending to be. “Did you know I thought I liked girls until I met you?” he asked.

Eames shut his eyes and sighed. “You were only fifteen,” he said quietly.

“Right. But I knew then, just as I know now, that you're the only guy I want to be with,” Arthur said with a hint of the pathetic hope he'd harbored for the past two years.

Eames's hands shook as he pushed his plate away and buried his head in his hands. “You know I want you, Arthur, but it wouldn't be fair to you,” he said.

Arthur's shoulders tensed at this. “Why not?”

“Because you're still a teenager. You have your whole life ahead of you. I'm almost thirty, in a completely different place than you are,” he explained. “Even if it's legal, and even if Dom and Mal were okay with it, that doesn't mean it would work out. You shouldn't tie yourself to me when you could have anyone you want.”

Arthur felt stinging behind his eyes. “Apparently I can't,” he whispered. “The only person I want is you, but you won't have me.”

He stood and quickly left the kitchen before he could make an even bigger fool of himself.

 

The next day...

Arthur stood on the porch with his bags and waited.

Eames sat on the back porch and stared at the patches of dead grass.

 

Arthur's 18th birthday...

Ariadne sat at the dining room table, blowing up balloons. Arthur watched her cheeks puff out and deflate with each blow. Her cheeks were red, but she kept going anyway.

“Why don't you call him?” she asked between balloons.

Arthur shrugged listlessly. He'd always loved his birthday, but this one was obviously going to suck. He was in a foul mood and nothing Ariadne or anyone else did could cheer him up.

Another balloon. “Maybe he's right,” she said.

“He didn't even give it a chance!” Arthur said angrily.

She chewed her lip and stretched another balloon. “Yeah, but he has a point. Dom would probably never talk to him again,” she said.

Arthur sank down into the chair and frowned. “I'm an adult now. Dom has nothing to do with it,” he said.

“Dom has nothing to do with what?” Mal asked as she entered the room with a large bowl of potato chips. She set them down between Arthur and Ariadne and brushed a hand through Arthur's hair. “You have been so down since you came home,” she said with concern etched on her beautiful face.

Arthur tried to close in on himself even more. “I don't wanna talk about it,” he said. He knew he sounded like a sullen teenager, but really. What could he say?

A look passed between Mal and Ariadne before Mal sighed and left the room. Ariadne looked sympathetic as she reached out and laid a hand over his. “Look, don't let this ruin your birthday. We'll have cake and ice cream, and then we can go out and have some fun. What d'you say?”

Arthur raised his eyebrow. “What did you have in mind?” he asked warily.

She smiled brightly. “There's this club...”

 

Arthur was dressed and ready to go. Ariadne bought him clothes for his birthday, obviously for going out tonight. The jeans were tight and they made his ass look awesome. The black shirt was just as fitted. He should look like the scrawny beanpole he was in this outfit, but Ariadne assured him that he looked good. After a long and critical look in the mirror, he decided she might be right.

“You look totally hot. I'll have to bring my pimp stick to beat them off you!” she exclaimed.

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Jesus. No pimp sticks, please.”

Ariadne was just about to reply when they heard the doorbell ring. He heard Dom open the door and say something, but Arthur couldn't hear who it was so he turned back to Ariadne. “Let's go.”

She clapped her hands excitedly and grabbed her coat. “We just need to stop by my house so I can make myself just as hot as you, my dear Arthur,” she said as she pinched his cheek obnoxiously.

“Why? I thought we were going to a gay club,” he said.

She scoffed. “Um, hello? The lesbians will be ALL OVER THIS!” she said as she pointed at herself.

Arthur laughed. “Lesbians? Isn't the place called Man Meat?”

“Good point,” she said, deflating. “I should have thought of that. But whatever, I'll be the best wingman ever!”

They were laughing as they walked downstairs. Mal was waiting for them at the bottom, looking confused and concerned. Arthur drew up short at her expression. “What's wrong?” he asked. She didn't know where they were going, so he couldn't imagine why she'd look this way.

She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear before she spoke. “Eames is here. He's with Dom,” she said. It was clear she knew something was going on, but she didn't give anything else away.

“Oh,” he said dumbly.

Ariadne nudged her way around Arthur. “Um, so I was just going...” she said awkwardly.

“Wait--” Arthur said, panicked.

Ariadne gave him a quick smile, but her eyes looked worried for him. “Just, um, call me later. We can still go out if you want.”

Arthur watched her go. Mal reached out and took his hand. “You should go into the kitchen,” she said.

He didn't have it in him to argue, so he followed her. To his surprise, there was a large bouquet of flowers on the table. “I put them in water for you,” she said.

He was confused. “But who?” was all he could say.

She smiled tenderly and stroked a hand down his cheek. “I think you know who,” she said quietly.

Arthur's mouth hung open. Was she serious? Did Eames really bring him flowers? Flowers??

“Umm...” he said awkwardly.

Mal sighed and pulled him over to the small kitchen table. He collapsed into a chair and she puttered around the kitchen, making espresso and cutting two large slices of leftover chocolate birthday cake. When she was done, she came back to the table.

It occurred to him then that the house was entirely silent. He saw it was past 9 o'clock, so the kids were already in bed. He couldn't hear anything from Dom's study.

Mal set the food on the table and sat down across from him. With nothing better to do, he picked at the cake while she quietly sipped her coffee. Finally, she spoke. “Do you love him?”

He quickly swallowed the cake and looked at her, wide-eyed. “I think so,” he said.

Mal smiled and got a faraway look in her eyes. “You know, I met Dom when I was your age. I was just a freshman in college. My father thought I was crazy, but I knew I loved him.”

Arthur shook his head. “It's not like that. Dom's totally gone over you, but Eames...he doesn't even want to give me a chance,” he said sadly.

Mal put her cup down and reached out for his hands. “Then why is he here?” she asked him.

He shrugged. “I don't know.”

They sat in silence after that, picking at the cake and pretending they weren't listening for sounds from the study.

 

After about an hour, the door to the study opened and the men emerged. Mal patted Arthur's hand and stood to put the dishes in the sink.

Arthur had no fucking clue what to do with himself at this point. Both Dom and Eames looked calm, nothing more.

“Arthur, can I see you for a moment?” Dom said.

Without looking at Eames, he nodded and followed Dom back into the study.

Dom sat behind the desk and Arthur looked at him warily. Then it went like this:

“So.”

“So...”

“Eames, huh?”

“...Yeah?”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“You know he's...”

“I know.”

“Are you sure?”

“Is he?”

“I'm guessing so, since he offered me two goats and a pig for your dowry.”

“...Did you just make a joke?”

“Sorry.”

“No, it was funny.”

“Okay.”

“Did he really?”

“He just wanted my blessing.”

“...”

“I can't say I'm totally cool with this, but I do realize you're an adult now...”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Okay then. Glad we had this talk.”

“Okay.”

 

When they came out of the study, Mal was doing the dishes and Eames was sitting awkwardly on the couch. Arthur hovered near the stairs, wondering what he should do. Dom disappeared...somewhere. It didn't matter.

Eames stood and brushed his hands down the front of his pants. He looked a little bit nervous. “Hey,” he said.

“Hi,” Arthur replied lamely.

“Did you, ah, get your flowers?” he asked.

Arthur nodded. “Yeah...thanks. You didn't have to,” he said.

Eames cleared his throat. “I thought maybe I could take you out, if you want?”

Arthur felt like he had vertigo. Nothing made any sense. “You're asking me out?”

He watched Eames cross the room to stand in front of him. A rough fingertip brushed across his bottom lip and Arthur felt his heart stutter. “If you'll still have me,” he said quietly.

Smiling brightly, Arthur leaned forward to kiss him, but Eames pressed that fingertip against his lips again. “Ah, not here. I promised Dom,” he said.

Right. Arthur pulled back and reached for his coat on the coat tree. “Let's go,” he said.

Eames smiled and pressed a hand to Arthur's lower back as he led him from the house.

 

Laterrrrrrrrr...

Arthur had to fight to keep his eyes open as Eames kissed and nibbled his neck and shoulders. “I've wanted to do unspeakable things to your collarbones,” he said as he pressed the tip of his tongue in the dip of Arthur's throat, making Arthur moan.

They were on Eames's bed, and Eames was slowly taking him apart. Their skin was damp with sweat and the long, wet kisses they shared. Eames had him caged in with his much larger body, but he was careful not to crush Arthur no matter how many times Arthur tried to pull him down on top of him. “Come on, I want to feel you,” he begged as he tried to tug unsuccessfully on those broad shoulders.

Eames just smiled and pushed Arthur's legs further apart. “I'm too heavy,” he said as he licked a stripe up Arthur's neck.

Arthur whimpered and reached down to grip his muscular ass. He tried to push his hips against Eames's so he could get the desired friction against his cock, but Eames just wouldn't let him have his way.

“I want you to fuck me,” he demanded.

“Your patience will be handsomely rewarded,” Eames said, amused.

Arthur scowled. “You sound like a fortune cookie, asshole.”

Eames laughed and reached down to grip Arthur's cock, giving it a few rough strokes. Arthur garbled out a moan and arched his hips, hoping for more. “I want to get you good and ready for me,” he said.

Arthur was not pouting. He wasn't. “I'm ready now,” he insisted.

“Is that so?” Eames asked with an arched eyebrow.

“Yes.”

“Okay then,” he said as he sucked a finger into his mouth and reached down between them. Arthur clenched his teeth against the feeling of that wet finger pressing into him. It hurt. When he opened his eyes, Eames wasn't smiling anymore. “Do you see my point?”

Arthur hated being proven wrong. “Yeah, whatever,” he grumbled.

Eames removed his finger and smiled tenderly now. “I know you think you know everything already, but you need to trust me. This is your first time...let me make it good for you,” Eames said quietly as he stroked through Arthur's hair.

Arthur sighed. “Fine,” he said.

Eames grinned and leaned down to give him a wet, sucking kiss. “Good boy,” he murmured.

Arthur's cock jumped.

“Ahhhh, I think Arthur might have a newfound kink,” Eames said with a dirty wink.

His cheeks went red. “Shut it,” he said.

“It looks like someone here needs to relax,” Eames teased as he dipped down to take the head of Arthur's cock in his mouth.

Arthur choked at the wet...hot...slick feeling of Eames's mouth. It was too much. It wasn't enough. He needed more. “Please,” he whined as Eames began to suck and lick until Arthur's eyes crossed.

“Please what? Please stop? Please go on?” Eames asked.

Arthur growled and pulled his mouth back down. Eames's chuckle vibrated up through his erection and into his spine, making him shudder. He was embarrassingly close to coming. Eames hollowed his cheeks and the suction sent Arthur over the edge. “I'm gonna...I'm...gaaaaaaaaaahhhhh,” Arthur whined as he tried to pull Eames off before he came.

Eames wouldn't budge, instead swallowing down every last spurt of Arthur's come. When he was done, Eames crawled back up and nuzzled Arthur's neck. “There. Now you'll be nice and relaxed for me,” he said huskily.

Arthur pulled him into a kiss, tasting himself in Eames's mouth. It was so hot that Arthur felt his spent dick twitch. Eames must have felt it, too, because he chuckled and said, “Hmm, we need lube...”

Arthur bit his lip in anticipation and automatically reached for the bedside table. He had his had around the bottle before he realized that he probably shouldn't have known where it was. He looked up at Eames and saw a mischievous smile on his face. “Well that explains the night with the sheets,” he said with amusement lacing his tone.

Good lord. Mortification washed over Arthur. “How did you--”

Eames dipped in to lay a quick kiss on Arthur's tense mouth. “You forgot to put the lube away, darling. Rookie mistake,” he teased.

Arthur wanted to die a little bit, but Eames's eyes went dark as he gazed down at Arthur with intent. “Why did you do it?” he asked roughly.

Arthur chewed his bottom lip and looked away from his face. “I was jealous, I guess.”

“Of whom?” Eames asked, confused.

He met Eames's eyes defiantly. “Whoever you sneaked out to fuck that night,” he said stubbornly.

“Ah,” Eames said, looking chagrined. “I was just trying to stay away from you, Arthur. I wanted to do the right thing,” he admitted.

Arthur frowned. “Well, it doesn't matter now,” he said as he tried to bring Eames's attention back to the present.

Eames took the lube from Arthur and popped open the cap. “So...you were in my bed, fucking yourself and thinking about me?”

Arthur blushed. “Yeah.”

Eames groaned.

Suddenly, Arthur felt the power shift. Feeling a confidence he didn't know he possessed, he decided to see how far he could take this. “Ever since I met you, I've been fucking my hand to thoughts of you.”

“Jesus,” Eames whispered.

Arthur ran his hands up Eames's neck and buried his fingers in the soft hair at his nape. “You know all those long showers I took?” he asked. Eames nodded, looking unwittingly mesmerized. “I was in there, working myself open, just wishing they were your fingers instead,” he said.

Eames looked like he was in pain now. He kissed Arthur with urgency as he reached down to brush slick fingers against Arthur's hole. This time, Arthur was relaxed enough that it didn't hurt when Eames pressed the first finger inside.

He sucked Eames's tongue and moaned as he felt Eames add a second finger. He felt some discomfort, but the thought of having Eames inside of him was worth it. He pushed down against those blunt fingertips, feeling them spread him open in preparation for Eames's cock. “Yessss,” he hissed when Eames added a third finger.

“So eager,” Eames murmured against the underside of his jaw. “You want my cock that badly?”

Arthur whined in his throat and arched his hips against Eames, wordlessly urging him to hurry up. Eames licked wet kisses across Arthur's shoulders and sucked a bruise into his neck. The sting of it had his nerve endings on fire.

“I'm ready,” he moaned. Eames looked skeptical, but Arthur stubbornly insisted. “I'm sure this time.”

Relenting, Eames went to reach for the drawer for a condom. “Wait,” Arthur said. Eames froze. “Are you – are you clean?” he asked.

Eames stared down at him. “Do you think I'd put you at risk? Of course I am,” he said, obviously trying not to sound offended.

Arthur shook his head. “No, I just meant...I just, I want to feel you. You know I'm clean...”

Realization dawned on Eames's face. “You don't want to use a condom?” he asked.

Arthur bit his lip and shook his head. “I mean, we can if you want to...I just...”

Eames cut him off with a kiss. “Whatever you want, birthday boy,” he said with a grin.

Arthur's shoulders relaxed and he beamed up at Eames. “Thanks.”

Eames laughed and slicked up his cock. “Oh no, I'm going to enjoy this just as much as you will, if not more. Ready?” he asked.

Arthur nodded and started to close his eyes when he felt the thick head of Eames's cock at his entrance. “Look at me, Arthur. I want to see you,” Eames said.

Reluctantly, Arthur dragged his heavy eyelids up so he could meet Eames's dark look. Seemingly satisfied, Eames began to push his way inside Arthur's body. Arthur shivered and clamped down at the unfamiliar sensation. “You have to relax, love. It'll hurt if you don't,” Eames said soothingly.

Arthur tried to relax, but he was still somewhat tense so Eames took his dick in hand and stroked it back to full hardness before he tried to move inside him. Finally, Arthur relaxed enough to allow Eames to thrust.

The slick sounds of Eames fucking him brought Arthur close to the edge before he was ready. He watched Eames's face, felt his huge body pinning him to the bed, and listened to the sound of the bed creaking under their weight. The sight of Eames between his legs, fucking into him, set off sensations at the base of his spine and he knew he was already close. He cursed his lack of stamina and tried to warn Eames. “I'm gonna...I'm ngghhhhhhhhh...” Arthur moaned.

“Yeah, come on. Come for me, baby. I wanna feel you,” Eames growled.

Arthur shuddered as he came, making a mess between their bodies. Eames lifted Arthur's legs up onto his shoulders and started thrusting harder. Arthur moaned weakly when he brushed his prostate, milking just a little more come from his deflating cock.

He reached up to brush his hand along the side of Eames's face. He peered up at him and licked his lips. “Are you gonna come in me?” he asked, trying for innocent but probably failing miserably.

Eames moaned and his massive shoulders shook as he started thrusting erratically. Arthur let his eyes drift shut as he felt spurts of white hot come filling him up, marking him and making him Eames's.

Eames collapsed to the side of Arthur to catch his breath while Arthur tried unsuccessfully to hold Eames's come inside him. He felt some of it dribble out anyway, and he shivered at the feeling. Eames reached down to press two thick fingers inside Arthur's hole and hummed. He bent to nip Arthur's ear. “Does this make you mine?” he asked, as if he already knew.

Arthur answered him anyway. “Yes.”

Eames smiled beautifully and kissed Arthur sweetly. “Happy birthday, Arthur.”

Arthur just smiled and curled into Eames's solid, warm body, feeling that this was where he belonged.


End file.
